Well, nothing they’d want anyone else to know about.

Appropriate username.

the Pattinson Batman universe

The Pattimaniverse.

It runs on some sort of electricity.

I stepped on my hamster which not only ruined Christmas but led to my parents eventually breaking up. It wasn’t a deliberate stepping, of course. Nibbles, bless his tiny, furry heart, had a habit of darting underfoot, a furry landmine in the living room. This year, he chose the precise moment Aunt Carol was launching into her annual monologue about her “special” sauce – a concoction that looked suspiciously like regurgitated beets – to stage his daring escape. My foot connected with his minuscule form with a sickening crunch, a sound that echoed through the suddenly silent room, louder than any Christmas carol.

Aunt Carol, mid-sentence, froze, her face a mask of horrified fascination. Nibbles, sadly, was no more. A tiny, crimson stain bloomed on the Persian rug, resembling nothing so much as a particularly abstract Christmas ornament. My mother, a woman whose love for small, furry creatures bordered on the obsessive, let out a wail that could shatter glass. My dad, ever the pragmatist, muttered something about “collateral damage” and reached for the brandy. The air, thick with the scent of pine needles and impending doom, crackled with unspoken accusations. It was a Christmas tableau worthy of a Hieronymus Bosch painting.

In the ensuing chaos, as people scrambled to salvage what remained of the Christmas dinner, Dad, still clutching a corner of the tablecloth, lost his balance. He stumbled, tripped over my outstretched leg (I swear, it was an accident!), and fell. And, in a move that defied all logic and physics, he somehow managed to grab my leg on the way down.

The last thing I saw before the world dissolved into a blur of pain and panicked shouts was my father, sprawled on the floor amidst the wreckage of Christmas dinner, holding my leg like a prized Christmas roast. “Gotcha!” he yelled triumphantly, while pulling my leg. Just like I’m pulling your leg now.

leon skum, the well known UK signage enthusiast.

idspispopd

You

nazis.

Det ved jeg ikke, men det lyder som et mindre problem som kan klares med kontakt til deres support som vist har ret brede beføjelser? Det vigtige for mig er at jeg stadig kan bruge MitID selvom jeg har mistet min kodeviser eller min telefon.

Well, you are, but not as cynical as ticketmaster who might have done exactly that.

The Wolfenstein franchise comes pretty close.

Det er ikke enten/eller; du kan godt både have kodeviser og app. Så er du ikke helt fucked når du træder på din kodeviser i en brandert.

Certainly true for the US.

Give leon a break here, he doesn’t pay taxes.

trump can’t even point to SA on a map.

It is not until it affects them on a personal level they make that realization. That is how far the empathy of the average conservative voter reaches.

A declassified World War II-era government guide to “simple sabotage” is currently one of the most popular open source books on the internet. The book, called “Simple Sabotage Field Manual,” was declassified in 2008 by the CIA and “describes ways to train normal people to be purposefully annoying telephone operators, dysfunctional train conductors, befuddling middle managers, blundering factory workers, unruly movie theater patrons, and so on. In other words, teaching people to do their jobs badly.”

Turns out I’ve been fighting fascism all along.

Yes, who would take him?

This is totally different. You see, jews were put on trains.

Don’t expect too much of the americans.